


Closer, Further, Still

by haaida



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: M/M, prostitution AU, smut smut smut, there will be smut, with plot!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8376646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haaida/pseuds/haaida
Summary: After quitting his old job, Rhett considers working for an escort agency to guard Link, a highly prized and endangered prostitute. This may be more than what he signed up for.





	1. A Starting Point

As a kid, Rhett had been fairly ambitious. He’d gone through that phase in his childhood where his naive optimism got the better of him. He’d wanted to be a fireman, then. Very badly. This desire of his reached its peak when one day Rhett had seen a red-suited man rescue a cat from a burning building. For weeks on end, his family had to suffer hearing random facts about firefighters thrown by Rhett at the dining table. (“Did you know firemen have _poles_ to slide down on in their stations in case of emergencies?” “Yes, Rhett, honey, we did all see at least an episode of _Fireman Sam_ thanks to you _._ ”) Further exploration into the facts regarding firemen eventually led to Rhett finding out that they suffer a greater risk of lung cancer (which was pretty self-explanatory, but Rhett was nine, goddamn it, give him a break). This successfully managed to crush Rhett’s hopes and dreams.

On some days, however, Rhett wanted to be a doctor. This was mostly because Rhett thought he looked _great_ in white. And also because he adored _Bill Nye the Science Guy_ and all things related to _The Planetary Society_. Having no idea what _kind_ of a doctor he’d wanted to be, this dream job of his just kind of died off on its own.

Hell, one time, he even seriously considered male prostitution. Exposure to multiple pornography films, _Playboy_ magazines, bad grades and the all too familiar anxiety before the day of his finals were just a few of the factors that led to Rhett thinking about this possibility. Not to be vain, but Rhett did find himself pretty okay-looking. While his facial proportions were a little off, by ninth grade his height officially breached an overwhelming six feet, and he was fit and relatively handsome. Well, as handsome as post-awkward-puberty would allow you to be. And then, after earning his spot in the basketball team, sophomore year, he began concentrating more on sports and slacked in his studies.

Rhett wanted to be a lot of things. However, none of his dreams included anything along the lines of Civil Engineering.

Which ultimately led us here, to one Rhett McLaughlin, now thirty-five years old, very tall, very tired, and most importantly, _very much an engineer_. He’d never been so miserable in his life. Even at his favourite pub, drinking the best beer to ever exist in Northern California with the jukebox blasting his favourite music, he couldn’t quite laugh right or go a few minutes without sighing heavily, in deep thought about his job. It was depressing. In fact, Mike, a friend he’d met some time in college, had pointed out various times that he even became less enthusiastic when flirting (or being flirted with). Rhett was stressed with work and rent and _work_ and his momma insisting on him bringing a woman home, and Rhett was just so _exhausted_.

 He was just in the middle of complaining yet again about his obnoxious dick of a boss before Mike cut him off. “Okay, Rhett, you know we’re best buds, right? Besties. But you are so stupid sometimes. I’ve listened to your sufferings one too many times! It’s time we end this. Just fuckin’ quit the job, dude.”

Rhett looked at him as if he’d grown another head. “I can’t just quit, Mike, are you crazy? Do you know how much my rent costs? I’m barely getting by as it is.”

“In my very humble opinion, if it came down to having a shit job with a shit boss or being homeless, I’d choose being homeless any day of the week,” shrugged Mike.

Easy for Mike to say. His pay check contained so many zeros Rhett had to stop reading before he risked having a headache. His snort was audible through the sips he took of his beer, clearly voicing his thoughts. Rent was one thing. He gave his mother a small portion of his earnings every month and he had a dog to take care of. Mike had the decency to look offended at his response, at least.

When Mike insisted on convincing Rhett to resign, Rhett merely gave the occasional disapproving grunt or sanctioning nods. He wasn’t too keen on the idea. People like Mike wouldn’t understand, after all. After a while, he tuned out of the conversation and began ordering shots from the bartender. He’d thought Mike would stop him since it was a weekday, but quickly brushed it off. Mike ended up joining him. Which should be a surprise, but it really isn’t. 

Thursday morning found Rhett draped over his toilet bowl, groaning sullenly as he swore he would never drink again. This was a lie, of course, considering the fact that Rhett had done this only about a hundred times before. Barbara, his dog, sat quietly by his side, tilting her head as she wagged her tail. Rhett gave her a smile he intended to be reassuring, but seconds later he lurched into the bowl and wiped the snot dripping down his nostrils using the back of his hand.

Although he did wish he could just stay inside the restroom until his hangover went away (read as: the entire day), he needed to feed Barbara. Reluctantly, after flushing the contents of his stomach away, he walked to the kitchen with the puppy trailing close behind. Times like these, Rhett was glad she wasn’t the type of dog to bark crazily when hungry or excited. Dumping the can of meatballs into her bowl, Rhett headed to the fridge and took an icy cold pack of peas. Pressing it to his temple, Rhett leaned against the countertop, taking a moment to let the dizziness pass by.

The frozen pack of peas held over his head gave him a relief that was short-lived by the annoyingly loud buzzing of his apartment door. As Rhett greatly appreciated manners, he repressed a groan of complaint and walked towards the intercom. Maybe he should’ve washed his face first. He pressed the button, croaking, “Who is it?”

“Oh my god, you’re really not at work, why aren’t you at work,” Mike said on the other side. He probably said more, but Rhett, who was not in the mood for Mike’s babbling this early in the morning, released the button to mute his voice at once. Forget washing his face, Rhett thought. He needed coffee. Copious amounts of coffee. And aspirin. A good few dozen of those, too.

He unlocked the door, allowing Mike in and raised his brows at the two cups of coffee in his hands. Huh.

Mike’s pearly white smile contrasted greatly against his dark skin that Rhett felt as though it was making his brain throb more. How Mike wasn’t even slightly affected was a mystery. Didn’t they drink the same amount of booze last night? Rhett just took the coffee silently, choosing not to question it. “Thanks,” he said, closing the door. Extra sugar, no cream. Just how he liked it.

“Saw your car outside,” Mike began, falling face first into the couch and flailing around for the TV remote control. When the TV turned on, a recorded episode of _Criminal Minds_ began playing from where it was left to pause. They had left the TV last time when Rhett voiced out his craving for basketball in the middle of the episode. Mike, who was tall (Rhett's taller by an inch or two) had demanded that they go to a court then and there to practice briefly. “Took my advice, didn’t’cha? Ya quit, didn’t’cha?”

Rhett sat on the floor, massaging his temples. Barbara perched on his lap, smelling faintly of canned gravy. The strong scent of coffee was making him feel a million times better already. He should appreciate Mike more often. “I just called in sick. Don’t get any ideas now.” He frowned again once he noticed the TV screen showing Matthew Gray Gubler speaking fast and wished he’d recorded the subtitles too. “Isn’t this week supposed to be _Law & Order: SVU_?”

“Aw, shoot!” Mike cursed, pressing the next button. “I thought you wouldn’t notice. I haven’t seen _Criminal Minds_ in forever!”

 _Law & Order: SVU _was in fact Rhett’s favourite while Mike preferred the other, although they both reenacted the voice intro with gusto before settling down again. Throughout the entire episode, Mike made an offhanded comment about white people and their tendency to make unwise decisions in horror movies. To that, Rhett replied by saying “This isn’t technically a horror movie but whatever.” Their cups of coffee were drained within moments and Rhett found himself in the kitchen preparing snacks for Mike and him. He also downed a glass of filtered tap water and popped some painkillers in his mouth.

This episode was one Rhett’s never seen before. His initial excitement wore off when he realised it was one of those episodes that were slightly boring at times. He yawned and leaned back on Mike’s calves. They’d both already finished the food (celery and peanut butter, several bags of potato chips, and a weird liquified concoction of Coca Cola, vanilla ice-cream and fries) Rhett made. The episode featured the brutal rape and murder of a lap dancer. Rhett became increasingly anxious in the middle of the episode, entranced by the suspense. Suddenly, just as the murderer was about to be revealed, Mike sat up.

“Oh. I forgot to give you something. Here,” he said, taking out his phone out of his front pocket. Mike scrolled through it for a few seconds before handing it to Rhett.

“ _Whuh_ ,” Rhett sputtered, gesturing at the screen while staring bewilderedly at Mike. “Dude, what is wrong with you? And you complain about not liking _Law & Order_? What’s there to like if you miss the best part of the freakin’ episode?” After a heated debate between Mike saying they could just replay it and Rhett insisting it won’t ever feel the same, Rhett glanced at the phone in his hand. There was a series of digits on the display, which was clearly a contact number. 

"I got you an interview," Mike said, smirking. Rhett had a bad feeling about this, somehow.

Before Mike left to attend to his girlfriend, he briefly explained about knowing a guy (who knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy) who was looking for a man to hire. While Rhett trusted Mike deeply, he also found this a tad bit suspicious. For starters, Mike’s instructions were all the information he had: call this number first thing in the morning, Sunday. Mike didn’t even know the guy personally. Rhett would appreciate some more clues, but the dark-skinned man confidently told him not to worry and that he’d love this job.

As he swung the door shut, Rhett leaned on his countertop and breathed in deeply, considering his options. There couldn’t be anything wrong with taking risks once in a while, right? Was it worth it to suffer everyday of his life doing something he didn't enjoy? He was pretty sure he concentrated more on calculating how hard exactly would he have to knock his head against his desk to cause instantaneous death in his mind than his own work. Engineering was clearly not for him. Maybe he should just go for it, like Mike said. Mike’s always been a spontaneous guy. And he wasn’t living a bad life, was he? Rhett stroked his beard thoughtfully.

There’s that, then.

Come Sunday morning, Rhett awoke at five thirty exactly, his biological clock stirring within. This fact surprised most, but Rhett actually enjoyed mornings. It’s soothingly quiet, almost eerie. Usually he would take Barbara for a walk in the park or around the block but he was staring at the phone again, the digits staring right back.

He got up, showered with freezing cold water to freshen himself up, took his phone out and paused. He was really doing this. He dialled the number without thinking too much about it, fearing he’d change his mind. While Rhett waited for an answer, he walked around in the kitchen and tried to find something to cook. After a few rings, a female voice said, “This is _The Frisky Streetwalker_ , how can I help you?” with an exaggerated sexy drawl.

“ _The Frisky_ — what?” He double checked just to make sure, and then again. He did call the right number. “This is — uh. What?” if he was applying for a job interview, he was _not_ making a very good first impression.

The woman at the other end of the line seemed as though she was used to this reaction because her reply was controlled, though still husky. “Yes, would you like to book someone this morning to pleasure yourself _,_ you bad boy? We’ve got almost everyone available today except Nikki, Jessica —”

Was Mike pranking him or something? He was about to end the call and see Mike to laugh about this later over a couple of drinks, before he figured doing that would be pretty impolite. “Well, no, my friend was joking around and said there was a job offer and told me to call. His idea of a joke, I guess. My bad, I’m so sorry for disturbing you.”

The woman cut him off somewhere in the middle of his sentence. “Rhett McLaughlin?” Rhett’s jaw dropped several centimetres, confused. “Yes, you’re booked for an appointment with the boss at nine o'clock today. I’m not allowed to tell you anything. But the boss promises she’ll answer every single one of your questions. Trust is an important establishment you need to have for this position, she says. Are you still interested?”

 _What_? Was Mike signing him up for prostitution? He made a disgusted face as he sliced some tomatoes. A BLT sandwich sounded exactly like what he needed. “I don’t think so, really. I’m not really up for being a —”

“Oh, well,” the woman said, her calm self dissipating. Her voice was shrill with eagerness now. “Would you please consider it a little longer? Being a bodyguard can’t be too bad. We’re pretty desperate to find somebody.”

Bodyguard. Rhett massaged the bridge of his nose. _Gosh, Mike._ After a long pause, Rhett said, “Okay. Nine a.m.”

“We’re pleased to have you here,” the woman said, sounding a lot more professional now that she’d lost the drawl, and gave him the address before ending the call. Rhett still had the phone pressed to his ear with his shoulder, thinking about what he'd done. What did he get himself into? He laid down bacon on the grill and willed his stomach to stop growling. He decided thinking positively would keep him sane. If all turned well, this could be a starting point for him.

 

 


	2. A Proposition

Upon reaching his twenties, Rhett had never really struggled with women or men. Hanging out in pubs as often as he did meant going home with strangers pretty often. And there was the fact that before Mike decided to settle down with his girlfriend, Rhett and him were interchangeable wingmen. With charming conversational skills Mike had, they were basically guaranteed to get laid one way or another. Rhett started off awkward and forced, but after years of seeing Mike in action, he’d learned a thing or two. Therefore, strip clubs and brothels weren’t things Rhett considered a necessity, save for special occasions such as bachelor parties or birthdays.

Rhett remembered his high school and college days, with his gangly limbs and too-large eyes. Being as tall as he was, finding clothes that actually fit was difficult. And his teenage self had the tendency to make stupid decisions (i.e. shave his entire head). Yet he still had girlfriends. Maybe Rhett had lost his appeal, because after graduating and earning his degree he’d never been with anyone for longer than a couple of months. He knew he didn’t have commitment issues since he was really quite clingy and attentive, but he never dwelled on thinking about it too much.

Lately, due to the intense negative energy he was radiating, his friends would tell him to loosen up and _see someone._ Someone who knew what they were doing. A prostitute. Now, Rhett wasn’t one to judge, but he did greatly question the sanitariness of them. And alright, sometimes he was kind of grossed out, too. But he couldn’t help it.

After the phone call with the odd woman a few hours ago, Rhett had pulled on his best suit (surely prostitutes would have _standards_ ) and spent hours styling his hair and fluffing his beard. As he stood before the tall building in front of him, Rhett found himself to be slightly taken aback. The building looked normal. It was painted with neutral tones and had a little fountain at the side of the door.

He had expected scantily clad women lounging in front of the entrance with six inch pumps and signs flashing ‘SEX HERE’ in bright, neon letters for some reason. It wasn’t his fault, really. With a name like _The Frisky Streetwalker_ Rhett wasn’t given much room to think of anything else. Rhett took a deep breath. He needed to calm down if he wanted to get this job.

As he passed the door, he was slightly surprised at the spaciousness of the building. Before he could take a better look at his surroundings, he was greeted by a petite, pretty woman who had her hair tied in a bun at the front desk. “Good morning, sir,” she said. Her voice sounded familiar and professional. “I assume you’re Mr McLaughlin? You’re here just in time. I’m sure the boss will appreciate that. She’ll be up waiting for you in her office.”

Rhett couldn’t help his amused smile. “That was you, earlier?”

The woman looked sheepish. “Well, I thought you were a customer… The boss noticed we get more of them if I sound sexier when booking appointments. Sorry.” She bit her lip as if embarrassed. “Name’s Jen. Good luck, Mr McLaughlin.”

“Please,” Rhett said as they shook hands. “Rhett’s just fine. Should I go now?”

Her approving nod gave him the OK and he went up the elevator a few levels higher. So far, so good. At least his hands weren’t clammy anymore and he felt like he knew what to expect now. The brief moment of silence in the elevator gave Rhett some time to think. He’d never thought a prostitution agency would be so _organised_. He was suddenly very glad he’d worn a suit. The doors opened with a ‘ _ding!’_

Stepping out, Rhett noticed there was a fish tank at the corner of the room and jazz music was playing softly in the background. Rhett took another step tentatively, unsure if he should announce his presence. The office, much like the ground floor of the building, was tidy and big. He could hear two voices talking behind a translucent glass screen. Judging by the tone of them, it sounded important. In fact, Rhett could go as far as to say they sounded like they were arguing over something.

His looming figure must’ve alerted them, because a voice told him to come in. A black woman sat behind a wooden oak desk gave him a friendly smile and offered him a seat next to a man. “Please forgive me for the company,” she said as Rhett sat down. The other guy gave a scoff and turned his head away. “Charles here decided now of all times would be a lovely time to stop by and chat.”

“Back to what I was saying,” the man named Charles said with an irritated bite to his voice, “I don’t need an escort, Val, this is ridiculous.”

“Charles,” Val said warningly. “Leave. I’ll talk to you later. I need to talk to him.”

Rhett raised his eyebrows silently. Her commanding tone seemed to put Charles in his place as he stood up with a great sigh and left the room. After hearing the sound of the elevator closing, Val raised from her chair and put out a hand for him to shake. Her grip was firm and she emitted a slightly intimidating aura although Rhett towered over her by a foot. Rhett concluded that she was not a woman anyone would want to mess with. “I’m Valentina,” she said. “Though you can call me Val if you want. Let's get started, then. Do you have a problem with hookers, Rhett? Sex workers. What do you think of them?"

Rhett inhaled heavily, unsure. "They gotta make a living, I guess, one way or another. I respect that."

"I can't hear that, Rhett. I need to know if you're okay with all this. Things can get nasty around here and I will take action if I hear you going off disrespecting any of my people." Rhett nodded. "Good. I’ll cut straight to the chase, then, I don’t think Charles will like you very much. I've… upset him slightly."

Rhett chose his next words very carefully. “It’d help if I knew what’s in my job description. I wasn’t told much.”

“See,” Val began, grasping her coffee mug. “Rhett. I’m a businesswoman. I sell the bodies of willing men and women for a few hours at a very high price. I’ve done this for almost two decades now. And to get this business up and running for as long as I have, everything has to be systematic. That means there will be no risks for my people. I keep them safe and they bring me clean money. That’s how it works around here, Rhett. It’s no easy task.

“But there are times that I slip,” she continued, bowing her head down as if ashamed of herself. Rhett listened intently. “And my mistakes come at a cost. But ultimately, I am the one responsible for my boys and girls. I value them as if they were my children. I need to take certain measures to protect them and make sure history never repeats itself again.

“That’s where you come in, Rhett. I need you to take care of Charles while he’s working. Can you do that for me?”

“While he’s working,” Rhett echoed, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“You’re only required to fetch him and take him wherever he needs to go,” Val said with a hint of a smile on her face. “But if there’s anything wrong, anything at all, you may need to step up. If he doesn’t answer your calls when you know his session should be over, if he leaves with bruises, if he seems distorted, if he shows any sign of being in danger, you need to do something.”

Rhett considered this, resting his chin on the back of his hand. He’d been in plenty of drunken bar fights but he didn’t know if that counted as _experience_. If anything, maybe his height will scare people off and he’d hopefully deal with a lot less. Still, even as his mind mentally made reasonable arguments to rationalise his decision, he felt a little dubious about this all.

As if reading his mind, Valentina said, “And of course, your pay check. I think this might just be the deal breaker for you.” She handed him a slip of paper. Rhett swallowed audibly as he glanced at the numbers.

“Gosh,” Rhett said, chuckling nervously, handing it back. He ran a hand over his beard, unsurprised to find it damp with sweat. He was becoming more convinced by the second.

Valentina smirked, delivering the final blow, “Your contract initially lasts for three months. I’ll refer to Charles to analyse your work performance and we’ll see how it goes from there.”

 _Deal_.

She knew he was game, because although he hadn’t said a word, she stood up and held her hand out again. It might’ve been written all over his face that he agreed or maybe she was just very confident. “Pleasure doing business, Rhett. You’ll start this Monday.”

He left the building feeling giddy. Jen, whom he told the news to, felt overjoyed and congratulated him with a big bearhug. Rhett was just about to call Mike and have fun sharing ideas on the most dramatic way he could leave his old company before he was startled by a man clearing his throat.

It was Charles. He was leaning against the side of the building with his arms crossed, looking extremely sullen. It was then that Rhett noticed the man was _awfully pretty_. He was slender but not petite, and Rhett figured he’d be about six feet or so. The intensity of his blue eyes were almost hidden behind the black, square-framed pair of glasses he wore, though Rhett still felt an uneasiness prickling from underneath his skin from the way Charles was looking at him. Why was Charles angry at him when they hadn’t even talked?

Despite the seething glare Charles was giving him, Rhett had only one thought in mind:

 _Cute_.

Link walked up to him, arms uncrossing, and raised an eyebrow as if to challenge. “You got the job?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Val’s officially gone crazy.”

 _Gosh,_ and he’s so _sexy_ , too. Charles was wearing everyday clothes, but Rhett could see his sharp collarbones from the wide collared shirt he wore that highlighted the length of his neck and he couldn’t stop staring at the slimness of his waist. _Yeah, baby, I’ve gone crazy too_.

What was he doing, about to pop a boner over his — well, what were they exactly? Coworkers?

“Look,” Charles said. And his neck is so _long_ , Rhett wants to _bite_. “Fine. I’ve accepted we’re gonna be spending a lot of time with each other from now on. Here’s what’s _not_ in your job requirement: talking to me, looking at me, addressing me unless I tell you to, basically communicating with me in any form or way, and meddling in my business. You keep that up and we might have something to work with here.”

Rhett’s heart sank. “Wait, Charles,” he started before being cut off.

“It’s _Link_ ,” the other man said with venom.

“Wait, Link,” Rhett tried again, fast becoming annoyed. What was his problem? He didn’t even give Rhett a chance! “What’s your deal with me?”

“My deal,” Link replied, and for some reason the tension in the air was making Rhett slightly hard. Link’s lips were thin but slightly plump and an obscene shade of pink. “Is that I don’t need to be protected. Val’s babying me again!”

Rhett sighed, trying to see it from Link’s side. True, it must suck having a total stranger be given the responsibility of ensuring your safety. “Hey, I know you can take care of yourself. M’not gonna be here twenty four seven behind your back, just think of me as a decoration.”

“A decoration the size of a sasquatch,” grumbled Link, turning around and walking away. Rhett followed suit, keeping up with Link’s pace easily. Eventually, he let off slightly and walked slower, just to see the curve of Link’s ass from behind. “Whatever, man. I’m not usually like this, I’m just really bitter. I promise I won’t be too overbearing when we work.”

“Hopefully,” Rhett joked, trying to earn a smile from the smaller man. No such luck. Link looked at him and rolled his eyes. “It’s alright though, I get it, you hate being spoiled. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Oh, really,” Link replied monotonously. At least he was responding to Rhett, albeit unenthusiastically. “Gimme some ideas then, why don’t you.”

Rhett shrugged. “I think if you just saw me as a friend it’d be a lot easier for you.”

“Friends,” echoed Link, stopping in his tracks. He tilted his head up, and Rhett couldn’t help but notice his prominent Adam’s apple. _Down, boy!_ Rhett internally commanded his swelling member. “You’re serious.”

“Dead,” Rhett said with an easy smile.

“Your job is to send me off to some random dude and wait in the car for me to finish getting fucked in six different positions,” Link said. “And you want me to think, ‘my friend’s waiting outside’.”

Okay. Maybe that wasn’t a very good idea. Rhett grimaced a little bit, at a lost for words. They’ll get there someday, Rhett was sure. And if not, he really didn’t mind. The money was worth Link’s cold treatment and scathing gazes. Link was pure masturbation material, after all.

“Right,” Rhett cleared his throat, clasping his hands together. “I’m just gonna go and leave you alone. But my offer still stands. We could even go out for drinks if you wanted to.”

“As friends?” Link said, now smiling slightly as if amused at Rhett's attempts to befriend him. Rhett refused to be flustered because Link looked ten times better smiling, which already says a lot. “Yeah, sure. Sorry I was kinda being a dick to you. Like I said, I’m not really like this.”

“Totally get it,” Rhett repeated, smiling too. “Everyone has their rough days. I’ll see you Monday, then? How do you like your coffee?”

Now Link was really smiling, and it was as bright as the sun itself. “Guess you won’t be all that bad if you bring me coffee,” he said, voice laced with goodhearted humour. “Sweetened to the point where it’s capable of potentially inducing diabetes. Thank you, Rhett.”

Rhett may have developed a very small crush. His heart fluttered a little when Link, who was a few metres away now, gave a turn and waved with a wiggle of his fingers. Rhett waved back dumbly, watching as he got into his car. He needed to tell Mike about this _immediately_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand they meet! i hope you guys liked valentina because i sure did  
> chapters after this will be a lot longer since this is just the starting point :)

**Author's Note:**

> please criticise my work if you find any of the parts unsatisfactory!
> 
> follow me if you want: rhettokyo.tumblr.com


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